The Rudolf Steiner Archive

15. Theosophy and Antisophy

[ 1 ] [Opposition to spiritual science or theosophy is widespread], which is why [this] topic [was chosen] for today’s lecture. It [is called] spiritual science in reference to the state of mind the human soul must possess in order to be attuned to theosophy. This disposition is referred to as “theosophical” in the same sense as it has been for centuries. [It is] that disposition of the human soul through which it experiences within itself the conviction that there is an inner core of being accessible to the human being, which is connected to the divine-spiritual that surges and flows through the world. Knowing oneself to be one with the cosmos—that is what the theosophical disposition conveys as a very general characteristic.

[ 2 ] [Gap in the transcript. What is research in the humanities?] There are certain activities of the soul through which the soul itself conducts an experiment that brings about something like a spiritual chemistry. Through this, one becomes so spiritually and soulfully detached from the physical-bodily that one associates a meaning with the words: “I live; I feel spiritually independent of my body,” so that I view this body from the outside. Just as inorganic chemistry separates hydrogen from water, so spiritual chemistry separates the spiritual-soulful from the physical-bodily. In this way, the human being experiences a threefold emancipation in the spiritual-soul realm. What is otherwise experienced unconsciously during sleep—the spiritual researcher experiences it consciously; for he works consciously, from the outside, on the physical-bodily realm.

[ 3 ] We can call this a conscious sleep experience. The physical-bodily aspect is like a mirror. During the waking state, the physical-bodily aspect’s depleted forces are in a state of constant decomposition. The forces of growth become exhausted, and this is why sleep occurs. The researcher consciously becomes aware of what takes place during this restoration. A kind of reproduction—a reawakening of pure forces of growth—occurs.

[ 4 ] The second is the wondrous mystery of entering physical life. The earliest days of childhood seem to us like a dream. Our powers of consciousness are still as they are in the dream state. We can only recall events back to a certain point in childhood, [when] fully developed self-awareness sets in. We can then say “I.” In these early stages, the very same powers and abilities that will later emerge are already present. How are these powers present in the child? In such a way that they are used for the plastic shaping of the physical body. Human beings have inherited only the formal, form-related aspects. They themselves refine these plastic powers into individual talents. One can see this in the physical organization as that of a being engaged in plastic work. One observes how this spiritual core descends from above and works its way into what has been inherited from the father and mother. I have said before that this core is the fruit of earlier earthly experiences. A moment arrives when the physical organization is, so to speak—to use a crude expression—hardened, so that the spiritual-soul aspect can no longer work on it in a formative way. This gives rise to what can be compared to standing in front of a mirror. Although we can stand in front of the mirror, we cannot pass through it; yet the reflection that appears before us is cast back. The process just described can be compared to this. What has previously flowed into the being is now reflected within itself. This is the emergence of self-consciousness.

[ 5 ] These forces are the same ones that work within our bodies. The spiritual researcher is in the spiritual world, aware of being within the Divine-Spiritual that permeates the world. This spiritual-soul experience is the fruit of self-sacrificing soul training that lasts for years and years. Thus, in what is reflected in the hardened organism, the spiritual scientist is firmly grounded in a theosophical perspective. We could not live this life without the spiritual-soul aspect emerging from the soul’s depths in its reflection. At that moment, however, it is only the part that is not permitted to penetrate into our actions and creative work. It is the non-creative part. That is what remains for our everyday life. With it, we must direct our attention solely to what [gap in the transcript]. This is how it presents itself to the spiritual researcher in that moment of our life when we remember a later earthly existence; our spiritual-soul core is there, but as if veiled by that which can only be experienced in its self-reflection. We do not see what lies behind the reflective surface as the spiritual-soul core.

[ 6 ] It then becomes clear that our spiritual-soul core is hidden within the physical organism, which acts like a mirror that conceals everything. All our ability to function rests on our developing this self-awareness. Our organism must create something that covers the spiritual-soul core in order to function effectively in the world. This is the antisophic disposition. One need not be surprised that this is so. Even the spiritual researcher must ensure that this remains intact within him. He must set aside his theosophical disposition and behave exactly as if he were an antisoph.

[ 7 ] It is always the case that one develops one’s abilities in a one-sided way. It is natural for most people to let the pendulum of their inner life swing toward the antisophic mood. This is rooted in human nature in the deepest sense. Life itself brings this about; there is no need to be surprised. We do, of course, set aside our awareness of the spiritual for the sake of external tasks. But for every person there are moments when a true sense of belonging awakens—something like a longing to become aware of one’s spiritual core. Then the person is able to infuse the antisophic mood with the theosophic mood. In and of itself, it is, of course, quite understandable that this theosophic mood can be overgrown by the mood of everyday life. We therefore see the two currents: formerly the scientific, antisophic one, and now the theosophic longing of the soul in our time. The consequence of this is that the antisophical mood has taken hold in a different current. You are probably familiar with the beautiful story of Pythagoras, who—when asked by Cleon why he was a philosopher—replied: “Human life strikes me as a fairground, full of people who are supposed to buy and sell or delight in games. But I am like one who wants to observe everything.” — In our time, this saying can no longer be used in this way. But what is the meaning of these words? What did Pythagoras intend to say with them? Underlying his saying is the feeling that what a person attains through knowledge—knowledge that is not readily applicable to external life—is something particularly valuable. Letting the soul roam freely is a kind of theosophical sentiment. In our inclination—born of this theosophical disposition—toward that which leads human beings away from the physical realm, we are now spanning centuries.

[ 8 ] Now, however, the opposite of the above comes from America: pragmatism, in the form of many brilliant aphorisms. This attitude says: It does not matter whether there is truth in a perception, but rather whether what is perceived proves to be useful. Take immortality, for example: objective proof of it is by no means necessary. But it makes life more secure, and a person becomes more useful when he accepts it as true. So let us imagine as if there were a God, et cetera. This mindset has found a kind of kindred spirit in the “Philosophy of As If.” The book is already in its second edition. While the author wrote the preface as a young man, he did not complete the work itself until after his retirement. This philosopher asserts that whatever can be said about supernatural matters should be regarded as if it were real. It is thus the exact opposite of the theosophical spirit of Pythagoras and Socrates, for that “As If” philosophy recognizes no objective truths in the supernatural. The antisophical mindset prevails today among certain leading thinkers, and it can be found across the broadest spectrum of human spiritual life. I would also like to point out a few other significant thinkers, but I do not wish for this reference to be interpreted as a disparagement of their intellectual capacities. I mention the opponent only because such a mention may imply a certain degree of recognition. I would like to remind you of the famous speech by the great physiologist Du Bois-Reymond on the limits of knowledge of nature. According to this view, the world is to be regarded solely as an immense mass of atoms interacting with one another.

[ 9 ] Where does a science that argues in this way lead? It says: We can understand the mathematical processes underlying the visible world, but not what matter is, nor what consciousness is. As for what lies beyond the realm of sensory perception, the motto is not merely “ignoramus,” but “ignorabimus”—we will never know. It is characteristic that Du Bois-Reymond assigns a strictly defined domain to science. But beyond that, there is supposedly nothing left to be known. Then, at the end of the speech, one finds the following striking statement: Knowledge of nature has its limits. To what haunts the space as matter, one would have to apply supernaturalism. On this, however, Du Bois-Reymond comments as follows: Where supernaturalism begins, science ends. — This statement is eminently anti-philosophical. It virtually forbids human beings from penetrating to the spiritual core of their being.

[ 10 ] No matter how broadly one searches today, one encounters this anti-sophistic sentiment everywhere in mainstream science. It is characteristic of our time. But something strange happens: Despite all the magnificent logic applied to the external natural sciences, and despite all the cultivation of human thought as it relates to the theosophical spirit, a claim—or rather, a counterclaim—pops up as if out of nowhere, without even an attempt to justify it. Is this lack of justification due to emotion or antipathy toward the spiritual world? Where does this antipathy come from? Wherever it begins, it surges from the depths of the soul as an impulse imbued with a certain passion.

[ 11 ] I must mention here that there are subconscious depths of the soul that are far greater than we realize. Much emerges from the subconscious that provides impulses. Our entire, so enigmatic state of mind depends largely on subconscious mental activity. Is the researcher of the mind capable of investigating this? He can investigate it and substantiate it with expressions of conscious mental life. We have many kinds of subconscious drives. One can clearly sense that a statement such as the one just cited by Du Bois-Reymond regarding supernaturalism emerges from the subconscious realms of the soul. [Gap in the transcript]

[ 12 ] Let us consider a person who is overcome by fear. In such a case, there is great tension in the soul’s life; certain subconscious soul forces are actively at work. I would like to refer here to the excellent studies by the Danish physiologist Lange. These phenomena can thus already be scientifically substantiated. Fear affects even the blood vessels of the body, causing certain irregularities in the organism. When someone is afraid, they can very easily fall into a state of mind that can be described with the words: “Above all, give me something to hold on to, or I’ll fall.”

[ 13 ] Let us observe a scholar who is concerned solely with science. His organism develops in such a way that, through his sedentary thinking, a mood is aroused within him that can manifest itself as a sudden shock, as an intense sense of fear. This mood of fear lies deep within his bodily functions. What is happening there are instinct-like, subconscious forces.

[ 14 ] The spiritual researcher, however, must make the transition from the passive to the active. When one focuses primarily on sensory perception, it is precisely then that one might, out of a subconscious sense of fear, arrive at such a claim [statement?]: Give me something in the external material world that I can hold on to, or else I will fall. — Materialism breeds fear. It fosters the belief that one is faced with reality only when one is faced with something one can physically hold onto in space. Thus, the antisophic mindset—as a mere belief in sensory qualities—is, at its core, nothing more than a state of fear. We will simply have to get used to the fact that this is true, however paradoxical it may sound. The “Ignorabimus” has the same root cause: fear. The antisophist collapses when he has nothing to hold onto as reality. This shows us what we must hold onto if we wish to investigate the reasons for the antisophic mood.

[ 15 ] It never fails [?] that my soul springs up like a compressed ball and feels a longing for the homeland from which it comes.

[ 16 ] These explanations are intended to lead us not to despise antisophy, but rather to learn to understand it. The achievements of our time—especially the great technological ones, everything that in a certain sense defines the greatness of our era—require an antisophic mindset as their counterpart. But antisophy will give rise to a theosophic mindset as a natural reaction. [Gap in the transcript]

[ 17 ] All those who have delved more deeply into the understanding of the world with their entire being have possessed a theosophical disposition. The human soul cannot do without it. One must recognize that, while antisophy may indeed foster competence in external life, human beings cannot be satisfied with it in the long run. The core of the soul reveals itself as the reality of human life and asserts itself from the deep springs of the soul’s life. There will always be moments of celebration in life when the theosophical spirit resonates and rises. Then a person is at one with all that is great and sublime throughout the ages. Goethe, for example, possessed such a spirit. He, in particular, expressed the theosophical spirit in many places.

[ 18 ] Not some minor figure alongside Goethe, but a great man who deserves the highest respect—the naturalist Albrecht von Haller—made the following statement out of an anti-Sophist sentiment:

Into the heart of nature
No creative spirit penetrates.
Blessed is he to whom she shows
Only her outer shell.

[ 19 ] That is antisophy. Only the shell, not the actual inner essence, which is connected to the cosmic-spiritual! Goethe perceived this as an antisophic mood and, speaking from his theosophical perspective, said:

“Into the Heart of Nature”
O you Philistine! —
“No creative spirit penetrates,”
Me and my brothers and sisters
May you
Never recall such words.
We think: Place by place
We are within.
“Blessed is he to whom she shows
Only the outer shell!”
I’ve heard that repeated for sixty years,
I curse it, but secretly;
Tell me a thousand, a thousand times:
She gives everything abundantly and gladly,
Nature has neither core
Nor shell,
She is everything at once;
Examine yourself above all else,
Whether you are core or shell.